Growing Like Gangbusters

Today Miss Kayla (aka Snuzzler, aka Snuzzleface, aka Miss Snuzzalot, aka Acorn, aka Orange Seed, aka Baby Girl, aka...) had her second follow-up appointment with the pediatrician. The good news is that her color looks "perfect" now with all the yellowness gone from her skin and eyes. The doc also calmed some of our fears regarding her little stork bites, her gooky eyes, and her recently shortened eating sessions. This whole being a new parent thing is hard! There is so much to needlessly worry about! Add to all those little concerns a lack of sleep and changing hormone levels and man...they should really just have the doc stop by every couple of days to check on the baby and, more importantly, to make YOU feel better.

The eating thing is funny. Realistically, you know a baby is getting enough to eat if they are gaining weight and producing enough of the right kind of dirty diapers. That's right, there is a "right kind". You are looking not only for wet diapers, but for poopy diapers and those poopy diapers are supposed to have a very distinct consistency and color. Never did I ever think that I would be so concerned with pooh. We examine that pooh like it is a code, which if cracked, could direct us to the location of the Holy Grail. Seemingly, we can set any worries aside though; Miss Orange Seed is growing like a weed! After weighing in at 7lbs 6oz on the 19th and 7lbs 14oz on the 21st, today Orange Seed proved that she is "Just fine, Mommy!" by weighing in at a whopping 8lbs, 8oz. She has now officially exceeded the weight limit on some of her newborn clothes, although you wouldn't know it since the pants still slide off her skinny little butt and she still seems to be swimming in half the shirts. Needless to say, it appears that mom and dad can quit worrying that maybe she's not eating for long enough. If she eats for any longer at each feeding, she'll be toddler-sized by 1 month!

I do have to say, she gets cuter every day. She's getting to be more wakeful during the daylight hours (praise the lord) and so we're getting to see more of her pretty blue eyes. She and mommy are also working out a better schedule (as much as one can have a schedule at this point). We've decided that if she is going to be up from 10pm-12am, 2am-3am, 4am-5am, and 8am-9am, then there is nothing wrong with us sleeping in until noon, if that's what it takes to get more than 4 hours of total sleep. Mom is not a napper. Never has been. Mom starts to feel guilty is she lies around for more than an hour at a time, but Mom is quickly learning that with a newborn in the house, if Mom doesn't let herself rest whenever the opportunity presents itself, then Mom rapidly passes the point of exhaustion and becomes a serious waste of space.

So here's to baby growth spurts, mommy sleeping in, and all the other little pleasures and accomplishments that a new baby brings. Truly, it is the little things that count.

Eat, Sleep, Poop...

Eat, Sleep, Poop.
Eat, Sleep, Poop.
Eat, Sleep, Poop.

No, really, that is pretty much it.

Eat, Sleep, Poop.

Life is a blur of nursing and dirty diapers. The sleeping is also a blur and I'm not totally convinced it's happening. I think it may just be wishful thinking manifesting into an imagined reality brought on by major sleep deprivation.

Eat, Sleep, Poop.

Repeat.

Parenting 101

Hard to believe that as of yesterday our little one is already one week old. I realize that to most people, one week sounds about as young as it gets, but as a new mom, one week sounds shockingly old. I mean one week...soon she'll be calling boys and wanting to go shopping for prom dresses! We have had so many people send us warm wishes via cards and telephone calls and though they are all well-meaning, so many of them have added a little note saying "Enjoy these moments. They are gone so quickly." I have to admit that though I understand the truth behind them, those are words to break a new mom's heart. When I lie with Kayla snuggled up against my chest at night, looking down at her perfect little face and tiny little hands, I just can't bear to picture her growing up. I know that we are in for such excitement and that we will cherish every milestone and yet, a part of me just wants her to stay tiny and cuddly forever.

It is incredible to think how many things we have learned in one week. We have learned the value of 2-3 hours of uninterrupted sleep. We have learned that co-sleeping doesn't necessarily provide mom with the most restful nighttime ever, but it does provide some of the most warm and cherished moments. We have learned that new babies are cute enough that even when they keep you awake from 1am-4am, you can't help smiling at their little wide-eyed faces.

I have realized that filing my own nails is not nearly as complicated as I thought. Try filing the nails of a 7 day old - paper thin and the size of nail heads. I have learned that you always, ALWAYS, pack an extra set of clothes for baby in the diaper bag. I have learned that babies can projectile ANYTHING - always have an extra changing pad, clothes, blanket, etc., at the ready and pack more diapers and wipes than you think you could possibly need. I have learned that grabbing a 5 minute shower can feel like a complete luxury and that managing to actually shave, well...paradise. I have learned that when you are breast-feeding, you MUST breastfeed on a regular schedule or your boobs will certainly let you know that you are falling behind (ouch!). I have learned that a new daddy can be as protective or more so than a new mommy. We have perfected the art of blocking out so that small germy children cannot touch our precious newborn. We have learned that sharing the burden is a must and that patience is, indeed, an incredibly important virtue. We have realized that mornings in bed now have a new meaning and that "sleeping in" can occur even when you are out of bed by 9. I have learned that the laundry must be done at least every other day unless you want to buy 10 of everything (sheets, changing pad covers, clothes, blankets...).

More than anything though, we are learning that it is possible to love someone so much that it makes your heart hurt. I have been lucky enough to be married to someone who I love more than I ever thought possible and now, having Kayla, I am realizing that love truly has no boundaries.

Happy One Week Birthday, Kayla. Mommy and Daddy still can't believe that they get to keep you forever.

Small Break for a Big Event

For those of you who were wondering, the answer is yes, yes the blog will continue now that Kayla Cameron (Ah! A name!) has been born. As you might guess, these past few days have been...busy. While there have been a million things to write about, I haven't really found the time to sit down and work on the blog. It's been hard enough trying to keep Kayla's journal (I've been keeping a written journal for her throughout the pregnancy as well), let alone to update this. As you can imagine, most of my free moments have been spent either visiting with family or trying to catch up on the hours of lost sleep which have been accumulating at a pretty rapid pace. I have to admit that I am definitely running a losing race when it comes to catching up on z's, but then, do any new parents not come in dead last in that event?

I know most of you have been able to keep up with us somewhat via Chris' email updates and our photo updates on Facebook. It has been an amazing six days (In one hour my baby will be 6 days old!! I can't believe it!!) and we are beyond ecstatic to be home safe and sound with our new baby girl. For those of you who don't know the birth story, last Wednesday night, April 14th, we made not one, but two trips to the hospital. That entire day I had been feeling...funny. I had a lot of cramping and some...emanations (to avoid too much discussion of bodily functions - sorry audience), but for the most part I had just thought that I was having the "Bloody Show" that usually precedes labor by a day or two. By the time Chris got home from work though, I'd started to see more water-like emanations and some red blood and so, after debating for a little bit, we finally called the doctor who said that my water may have broken and we should head to the hospital to be sure. Off we went to the hospital, bags all packed, hoping (though skeptical) that would be admitted with baby only hours away. After spending an hour or two at the hospital, we were told that nope, my water had not broken and indeed, I was only a "dimple" dilated, so we should head home and wait until I started feeling "100% different than (I did) right now". And so, back in the car we went. By the time we were five minutes out from the hospital, I was starting to have fairly painful contractions. I didn't know if the pain that was shooting all through my back and abdomen was from a true increase in contraction strength or if it was just a result of being subjected to two back-to-back car rides across the New Jersey potholes and, of course, I was hesitant to acknowledge the change at this point, having just been told that there was nothing happening in the baby-producing arena. By the time we got home though, there was no denying it. I was having STRONG contractions and, unlike those I'd experienced in the previous days, these had a clear beginning and ending and when Chris insisted we start timing them, lo and behold, they were only five, then four, then three minutes apart. Despite my hesitation, Chris insisted we turn around and head right back to the hospital and it's a good thing we did. "I had a feeling I might see you back tonight," the admitting nurse told us, and it turned out that I was now 1 centimeter dilated and on the road to birth. We were admitted to the hospital and transferred to a Labor and Delivery Room after what felt like FOREVER, though in reality it was probably only an hour at most. An hour...nothing really considering the fact that it was 13 full hours later that Kayla finally emerged into the world. At the point that we were admitted to the hospital it was 2am. I have to admit that though it is possible to prepare for labor, it is impossible to truly picture what you will experience. The combination of adrenaline highs and lows, exhaustion, pain, focus, excitement, hope...it is such a mixed experience. I felt confident and strong throughout the whole experience, although I was definitely increasingly surprised by how INTENSE the contractions could be. Some of the night is a blur as I drifted in and out of sleep. Sleep...intense focus...sleep...intense focus...From time to time the doctor or nurse would come by to check on me and the baby. Every time they did, it was a relief to hear that progress was being made. Four centimeters...and then, seemingly suddenly, nine centimeters. Nine centimeters! And before I knew it, it was time to push. It was so nice to finally feel like I could contribute to the process rather than just surviving it. I was so happy to finally know that this little baby couldn't be more than a few hours away.

I will spare you the details - those interested, I'm sure we will talk offline - but let's just say that it wasn't until 3.5 hours later that I finally held Kayla in my arms. 3.5 hours is a long time when you are a) working harder than you have EVER worked before, both physically and mentally and b) know that you have something of a deadline approaching; much over three hours an a c-section starts being a very real possibility. I truly think, drugs or not, being in good physical shape and having practiced some relaxation and breathing techniques are KEY in making it through the birth process. Labor, as its name suggests, is hard work. Knowing that you have struggled through and survived tough physical challenges before, knowing that you can withstand and endure...it really helps you believe in yourself as you are going through an experience that can only be described as a test of self. But I don't mean to describe it as something terrible or scary. The reality is that it is the most amazing thing I have ever done. The process itself actually wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it might be and when I held Kayla in my arms...I created her. I brought her into being. I cannot describe the wonder and awe that accompany that knowledge. Those moments afterward, when Chris and I both looked at each other, choked up and fighting back tears...nothing could ever be as amazing. I will forever replay those moments in my head and know that if I am capable of this, I am capable of anything.



There is so much more to say about that weekend and the past six days...our fears over Kayla's minor jaundice, our first nights as new parents, the various lessons learned during out first outings (projectile fluids...you cannot imagine...), our trips to the boo-boo doctors and our hours of fascinated wonder - staring down at this little girl who is now and forever a part of our world. All of those things seem to require their own entries though. The birth itself is just too significant to be mushed into an entry with other events.

At any rate, dear readers, know that this blog will continue to exist. Entries may not come quite as quickly now that I am a mommy rather than an expectant mother, but I will do my best to keep it updated with all the things I am sure to learn, experience, and be stunned by in the coming months/years. Thanks for being patient and for continuing to be interested in Kayla now that she is here in the flesh.

Stop, Drop, and Birth

I was informed today by a man in Starbucks that I had better drop soon if I am hoping to give birth by Saturday. He has four sons, you see, so he knows how low these babies need to look before they are ready to come out. He also knows that I couldn't possibly have gained more than 12lbs and that I am carrying like I am five or six months pregnant rather than nine. I hated to correct him since clearly he prides himself on his pregnancy expertise...I told him that if I find out that I am five/six months pregnant versus nine, doctors' heads are gonna roll. He laughed and said "Well, you're certainly small enough that you look like you could stand to go another few months." Sir, would you mind redirecting that last statement to my not only bruised, but cracked rib? I think it would like to address your observation by giving you a sharp smack to the back of the head. I don't care how small I look, it is time. It is time, it is time, it is time. Another week, I can accept. I have wrapped my head around the fact that most first babies show up well behind schedule, but another three months? I think not.

Yesterday we went in for a mini-doctor's visit and the news is that there is no real news. Actually, that's not fair. The very good news is that Orange Seed is by no means in distress and, in fact, she seems to be doing quite well. Her heartbeat is still just fabulous and any peaks and valleys are fully attributable to her movements. I'm having some small Braxton Hicks contractions, but other than that, my body is only baaaaaaarely starting to prepare for labor. It will be interesting to see if anything has changed when we have our follow-up appointment on Thursday afternoon, but for now, it appears that everything is just continuing per the status quo. Nightly, Chris and I encourage Orange Seed. "Okay, it is almost time...big day coming up...time to pack your bags, wiggle your way on down and get ready to join the world." That said, if we have learned anything about Orange Seed in the past nine months, it is that she will likely do whatever she feels like doing. Despite nightly pleadings that she cease kicking my ribs, she has continued to scoot her little legs right up there and to go to town on a regular basis. Despite asking her to maybe ease up on the movements after midnight, she still occasionally enjoys a good 3am jog around my uterus. Even pre-birth, I think it has been clearly established that she is in charge here and that Chris and I are just along for the ride. Time to start working on a post-birth game plan...

39 Weeks and Change is in the Air

It's April 9 and spring is finally in the air. The trees who can are in bloom and those who can't are springing leaf buds, eagerly preparing for their own grand entrance. Other changes appear to be in the air too, although these are far more mysterious. All day yesterday and all last night, I had cramps and something was...different in the way the baby was moving and positioned. Something was different in the way my entire body felt, actually. It wasn't the most pleasant experience, nausea, cramping, and general unease, but it was sort of nice to at least know that maybe some kind of preparation was going on. Today everything is back to feeling pretty much normal again, so I don't know if yesterday was a spurt of Braxton Hicks or the baby had just managed to squirm her way further south and was pressing on some new nerves...Whatever it was, I have chosen to think of it as a sign of progression because, let's be honest, we are eager for some progression at this point. They are now taking bets at both my yoga and Pilates classes on how many more times they'll see me. Though they have been kind enough to mainly bet they won't see me after Friday of next week, I have watched way too many women come walking in two, three, four days after their due dates to have much hope. But, then, there is always some hope isn't there? So maybe I do still have some little part of me that thinks Mme Orange Seed might decide to show up early. Ah, how it doth spring eternal.

But while I wait for something big to happen, I am mainly trying to distract myself: Yoga and Pilates as often as possible; swimming; time in the park; I've read three books in the past two weeks (The Girl Who Played With Fire, Naked, and The Must Asylum); potentially excessive checking of e-mail and Facebook; last chance appointments (nails, hair, massage); and, today, I rented seven movies. That's right, seven. I have five days to watch them. I realize this makes the chance of my getting through them all pretty unlikely, but a) for once there were multiple movies at Blockbuster that I actually wanted to see (so this is the bonus to seeing no movies in the past 6 months or so) and b) the sun went into hiding today, so my plans to lie in the park were foiled and after only getting about four hours of sleep the other night due to discomfort and a bizarre case of wakefulness, I was exhausted and so only wanted to make like a vegetable today. In case you are wondering, I've only gotten through one so far: An Education. Not bad. Not great. I plan to move onto either "The Hurt Locker", "Zombieland", or "Where the Wild Things Are" next. See? I'm not kidding. I rented so many movies that the Blockbuster dude asked me if I was sure. "You have seven movies here," he said. "Right...". "You know you only have them for five days, right?" "Yes. I may not make it through them, I know..." (seriously, dude, why must you point out to everyone else in the store that I am planning a lazy movie marathon?). "Well, okay then...if you're sure..." Oi. Let a pregnant woman be, would ya? Now the guilt is going to drive me to spend every hour of the weekend outside and away from the television and that $30 of movies will go to waste and I will actually feel proud when I go back to the store and say "yeah, sheesh, I didn't even make it through two. Just soooo busy...alas." Darn this man. Does he not now I have major difficulty agreeing to just relax and be lazy. Don't challenge me when I'm about to give into the urge! This might have been the one time I let myself get some rest all month. Way to kill it, Blockbuster Dude.

Ah, well...let's hope maybe the movies work some voodoo magic and make Orange Seed come early. I keep hoping the same thing will happen when I sign up for a class or make any kind of appointment. Surely if I make plans past today, she will then show up early. Murphy's Law, right? Waiting...waiting...

11 (??) Days and Counting

It was check-up time for Orange Seed today. No major news to report - she is head down, has a strong heartbeat, all mommy's levels and numbers and vitals are good and so...basically...ain't nothing happening. That said, we do have an ultrasound and internal exam scheduled for next Thursday. I never thought I would say this about an internal exam from the OBGYN (Ladies, are you with me?), but YAHOO! Even if the result is nothing more than "no progress", just knowing that someone has actually looked and the result is official will be nice. Though logically I understand that there is no reason for them to do an internal exam every time I'm in, especially when nothing is happening for me water-breaking/contraction/bleeding-wise, still...you do wind up sitting around at this point in a little bit of denial. Every appointment is the same. Every day feels pretty much the same. You can't help but sort of fade into this stage of thinking where you KNOW the big day is coming...but you don't really believe it. And I don't even mean that in a forlorn, woe is me kind of way. Though I am anxious and excited for Orange Seed to get here, this lessening sense of reality in relation to the birth hasn't made me feel sad. I just feel this sense of acceptance - things are still the way they've always been. Why would they change? That feeling is so strong, in fact, that the idea of Orange Seed showing up early hasn't even entered my head. I'm pretty darned convinced she's going to be late, if anything. Who knows though...maybe my lack of belief in her ability to be on time will work a jedi-mind trick on her - reverse psychology. If she is as strong-willed as we expect her to be, then maybe just knowing that we don't believe she will be here on time will encourage her to make a quicker entrance. Lord knows it is hard to believe that she needs anymore development time. She is a strong little lady who seems like she may come out ready to run, let alone to just be a typical little newborn.

On that note, our little Orange Seed, according to the books and the doc, is now about the size of a watermelon. A watermelon, people! Last night Chris and I were reminiscing about the days when she was her original little Orange Seed self. Hard to believe that was ever true. Hard to believe that I was ever unsure of her movements or her existence. Nowadays, she truly rules the roost and I am just along for the ride. And this is what the ride is looking like nowadays:



We took better pics with the other camera, but for some reason the computer doesn't want to recognize that card right now. We'll post those when we can get all our fancy equipment to start working together again.

When "Huge" Becomes "Tiny"

I tell this story because apparently there are people out there who can not navigate the murky waters of socially acceptable on their own and who, therefore, desperately need blog entries like this to save them from themselves.

Yesterday in Pilates, a girl was telling me about an experience she had at work that left her sobbing in her car in the parking lot. Now, let it be said that this girl is, in fact, seven months pregnant, so it is possible that hormones played a role in her reaction, but still...She was walking down the hall when a fellow teacher accosted her.
Evil Teacher: "How far along are you now?"
Angelic Pregnant Teacher: "7 months"
Evil Teacher: "7 months? Is that all? You're HUGE."
APT: *blink blink*
Evil Teacher: "You must be having twins."
APT: "Nope. Just one. We just had another ultrasound."
Evil Teacher: "But it must be twins...otherwise there is no reason for you to be so gigantic. Have you asked your doctor if everything is okay?"
APT: "Everything is fine, thanks."
Evil Teacher: "Well, wow...I can only imagine what you will look like at 9 months!"

Now listen...and if you are someone who has ever told a pregnant woman she is huge, then listen EXTRA CAREFULLY. There is a small window when it is okay to comment on a pregnant woman's stomach, exclaiming that it is large/growing/etc. That window comes in the few months (for first timers, usually months 3-5 or so) when the pregnant lady in question isn't actually showing yet and is anxiously (and naively) awaiting the day when she will finally have a baby bump to proudly display. At this point, it is okay to comment on the "bigness" of the belly because, let's be honest, it's not really there and the pregnant woman desperately wants you to notice her barely-there-bump. Of note, I'm guessing that this window narrows significantly during a second or third pregnancy seeing as a) you show sooner and b) you now understand that once the bump arrives, it ain't going anywhere. It will just continue to grow and grow and grow until you are carting around a watermelon and remembering fondly the days when your little one was no more than an Orange Seed and didn't weigh 8lbs nor boot you in the ribs over and over again (not that I'm speaking specifically of me of course...). Anywho, once the window of opportunity closes, do NOT, I repeat NOT, ever tell a pregnant woman she is huge. No woman wants to be huge. Think this through. When not pregnant, most women spend and inordinate amount of time figuring out how to look as not huge as possible. When pregnant, even if you are a glowing and proud pregnant woman, you do not, under any circumstances, want someone to look at you, eyes wide, and exclaim "My God, you are HUGE." There comes a point in your pregnancy where, in fact, you want to hear the exact opposite. You want to hear "You are 8 months pregnant? But you are TINY!" For those of you who have been reading the blog, you should know this. Think about some of my favorite moments. There was the moment the woman in the grocery store asked how far along I was and when I told her, she responded "Oh my God, but you're tiny! That is just disgusting." She has been my BFF ever since. Then there was the moment (2 weeks ago) when the Starbucks Barista, having peered over the counter for the first time, said "You are pregnant? Oh my gosh, I've been seeing your upper half and back for months and had no idea!" He is now BFF #2. There is the pilates instructor who keeps telling me how amazing I look and the Doc who keeps telling me that I am the "picture of pregnant perfection"...these are the people who, in my 9th month of pregnancy, warm my heart. Notice that there is not one person in there who has told me I am "huge", "look like I'm going to pop", or "must be having twins". Are you following? During pregnancy, you are, in fact, huge in the belly and though you are (hopefully) at peace with this, knowing that the bulk at your middle is a cuddly miracle, you still are self-conscious about whether or not you've gotten bigger anywhere else and so, I say unto all of you, if ever you have the urge to tell a pregnant woman she is huge, refrain. Instead, look at her and even if she has gained 70lbs, tell her that she is "glowing". Tell her that she looks "adorable". Tell her something that may, for a moment, take her mind off her aching back and swollen ankles, because I can promise you...she deserves it.

Revelation Time

Okay, the big secret is about to come out...

Are you ready?

Orange Seed's name...

will be...

Krzyzewski Scheyer Duck.

We'll call her "Ski" for short. I think it's really cute.


NBC Sports

Rip 'em Up!

For those of you who don't know, tonight is a big big night for the Duck household. After a number of disappointing tournament years, Duke is back fighting for the NCAA Championship! (Quiet UNC fans. Nobody is interested in your whining. Was that the NIT you couldn't even manage to win? I believe it was. Shut it.)

We've been watching the tournament religiously since it began and after an incredible Final Four game on Saturday night, we're all psyched up (and nervous and anxious and will likely bite off at least 4 or 5 nails) for tonight.


Jonathan Daniel/Getty Images - Courtesy of ESPN.com

And so, for the first time in many nights, I am asking Orange Seed NOT to come. Lately, knowing that she is full term and perfectly okay to make her entrance into the world, I have had trouble telling her to hold off. For so many months we talked about the importance of her staying in and growing strong and healthy, but now...now it is hard not to encourage her to at least start working her way toward an arrival. That said, I'm not holding out much hope that she'll come "early" or even on time. She is her father's daughter afterall. Thank God for induction, otherwise she would probably still be squirming around in there until mid-May sometime, going, "Oh! You mean you actually wanted me out by now? Well, okay, I mean I was planning it and all, but still working out some details. Okay, let me just finish this one thing, ooh, wait, look at these crazy fingers. Ooooooh. How much fun are these? Wait, where was I supposed to go again?"